


Thank you

by klutzysurgeon



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Alabasta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 13:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzysurgeon/pseuds/klutzysurgeon
Summary: It only occurs to her days after they've set sail from Alabasta that while she did give him a piece of her mind for the less than desirable functions of the Clima Tact, she never thanked Usopp for giving her the ability to fight.





	Thank you

“Thank you,” Nami blurts.

 

It nearly startles Usopp to death, her head suddenly peeking over the edge of the crow’s nest, exclamation piercing the dead silence of night. The sketchpad he’d been drawing in goes flying, followed by his panicked scramble to catch it resulting in him nearly falling out until she leaps forward to grab him, yanking him backwards hard enough that they smack against the side boards, nearly toppling out again.

The two collapse in a heap, wheezing and equally confused. “Why did you scream!?” Nami demands, at the same time Usopp asks “What was that for!?”

No, no, no. This is not at all how Nami wanted this to go.

She takes a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she apologizes. “I came up here to say thank you.”

“Thank you...?” Usopp tilts his head, putting aside the sketchbook he’d nearly lost. “For what?”

“For the Clima Tact.” For so much more than that, but she isn’t sure how to say it.

Still.

She owes it to him to try. “I’m really weak.” Usopp opens his mouth to protest, but she carries on. If she stops now, she may not ever continue. “Like you.” Okay, that may have shut him up _too_ easily. “Physically, anyway. I’m fast and small, but that’s no good now that I can’t run away. It’s… weird. Standing my ground. ‘Cause of Luffy.”

“I know _exactly_ how you feel,” Usopp mumbles. It occurs to her he probably _does;_ sure, as a thief, most of her occupation involved running, but as a coward? From the way his legs had shook that time in his village, there’s no doubt he’d never taken a stand before then.

And who could blame him for being scared? Pirates are terrifying. Nami knows that better than anyone. Some irony it is, then, that she is one, that he is too. Though, if you ask her, adventurers seems a better title for them. (Aren’t pirates supposed to have more treasure? She’s disappointed.)

But Luffy changed that. Luffy, it seems, changes everything. And here they are, a couple of normal people, too used to running away to know how to fight but they’re trying anyway. “And that’s why I probably owe you my life,” Nami says. It pains her to have such a debt, but she’s never one to let them go unpaid. “I can’t throw a punch and knock people out, but with the Clima Tact, I won. I won, even if those stupid party tricks _almost got me killed.”_

Usopp whistles innocently when she glares at him, sweat beading up on his forehead. “I-it seemed like a good idea… at… the time…”

“Useless settings aside, it _was_ a good idea,” she admits. “To be able to command the weather… that’s every navigator’s dream, isn’t it? And you made it come true. You’re the reason I’ll be able to fight now. So, thank you.” And then, because she has to save face, she cuffs him lightly on the shoulder. “Now get that dopey look off your face, I’m probably never saying it again.”

He’s grinning ridiculously, practically overflowing with pride. “Hehe, it was a pretty good idea, wasn’t it?” He strikes a pose, riding the ego high. “But of course, coming from the great Me, how could it be anything less? Master sniper, genius inventor, brave warrior of the sea Captain Usopp never fails!”

“Yes yes,” Nami obliges, fighting back a laugh. “You’re truly fantastic.”

His giddy mood is spilling over onto her, making her grin despite herself. He just looks so genuinely _happy,_ it’s dorky and… cute.

“Do you want to see the diagrams?” Usopp asks, picking up his sketchbook. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Nami doesn’t think she has the heart to say no, much as she’d like to get back to sleep. She’d only gotten up to say thanks and get it over with so she’d stop thinking about it, stop feeling indebted.

Somehow, she doesn’t feel indebted anymore. _Thanks_ has never been currency to her, but maybe it’s enough. “Sure,” she shrugs, settling down on the floor of the crow’s nest. “Why not?”

It’s a small space with the two of them but they fit well enough, legs tucked in and knees brushing. He spreads the sketchbook out on their legs and Nami can hardly believe the diagrams were made by him– simple sketches, complex models, scientific formulas she can’t even read. “It was a rush job with what we had on the ship, so I wasn’t able to do everything I wanted to,” Usopp laments. “See, like this here–”

“You mean it’s not even done?”

She didn’t mean to interrupt him, but the incredulous statement escaped her mouth before she could stop it and he almost seems ashamed. “N-no? I mean… That’s not everything it was supposed to have… but we didn’t… have the parts.”

He thinks she’s _criticizing_ him? “Usopp, no,” Nami blurts, choosing her next words more carefully. “I’m not disappointed it’s not done. What I meant was, it _seems_ like a masterpiece, even if it is half party tricks, and you’re saying it’s a half-finished prototype made from spare parts. Usopp, that’s insane.”

“It... is?” Usopp mumbles. “It was nothing special, really…”

_Nothing special?_

“You’re banned from talking about yourself,” Nami decides, picking the sketchbook up to squint closer at the diagrams. She can see the bits of the finished product that made it into her prototype but she can’t even decipher what the rest is supposed to be, lost in a mess of scribbles and formulas. “Too dumb to see your own genius. Now come on, tell me about my weapon.”

The night isn’t nearly dark enough to hide the blush on Usopp’s face when it slowly sinks in that Nami just complimented him, bright moonlight showcasing the brilliant red on flushed tan skin. She pretends not to see and he flips the page to show even more diagrams, splotches of blue paint ( _Clima Tact_ blue) on the page.

“S-s-so, I used your original weapon as a base,” Usopp starts, pushing past his stammering as if it never happened. Their knees are still brushing and she’s leaning over close enough that their shoulders are brushing too and she finds it’s not that uncomfortable. “Because it’s always, you know, easier to fight with something you’re, sort of, familiar with, you know?”

Nami prepares herself for a long night, half expecting it to be useful (she might be able to suggest improvements herself– after all, who knows weather better than her?) and half expecting it to be unbearably painful (how many times is he going to say “you know?”). At the very least, the breeze is nice, calm seas providing a gentle rocking of the Merry.

By the time the sun peeks over the horizon, it’s felt anything but long and painful. Their laughter and bickering had echoed out into the empty night air, the two of them barely remembering to keep quiet enough not to wake up the others, discussion surprisingly productive and easy. She half suspects he really is a genius with all the technical mumbo-jumbo that he can decipher and he half suspects she’s a witch for all her knowledge of the weather far beyond science and they’re both stunned when they notice daylight, when Sanji emerges first from the cabin bright and early to cook breakfast.

Perhaps the most surprising part of it all is their tangled limbs, legs stretching out and stretching over each other, the way they’d slumped down bit by bit until they’d practically laid down on top of each other, her head on his shoulder and the book between them, commentary and edits in two sets of handwriting adorning the pages.

And when Sanji comes up to get them, he finds the pair sound asleep, passed out somewhere between “oh, it’s morning” and “the aerodynamics are _all wrong.”_

They only get an hour’s nap before the ruckus below wakes them up, all the hustle and bustle of breakfast too loud for anyone to sleep through and sooner or later someone would’ve had to wake up the navigator anyway, but it's still the most comfortable Nami can remember sleeping since her bed back in Kokoyashi and she thinks that maybe she has more to thank him for than just the Clima Tact.

Usopp smiles at her, wide grin broken up by a yawn and a mumbled "Morning..." and she can't help but smile in return, a genuine small upturn of her mouth turning into a giggle at the realization he has blue paint smeared on his cheek, a darker shade he'd been showing her. It strikes her rather suddenly how funny it all is and how cute he looks and she doesn't think anything of it when she raises her hand up and uses her thumb to swipe at the dried paint.

"Thank you," Nami murmurs, quiet and genuine. It sounds different, somehow, to say it in the daylight, but it doesn't carry the weight of debt. It's light, as light as gratitude and affection and she means so much more than just the weapon. Usopp smiles softly, dog-earring the page titled  _Clima Tact Ver. 2.0._ If she's willing to place her life in the hands of the weapons he makes, then he's going to make certain they're worthy of it. He's going to make sure that  _he's_ worthy of the trust she's given him.

He's grateful in a way that  _thank you_ can't convey, but it hardly needs to be said, anyway.

They know.

 

"Anytime."

**Author's Note:**

> have I ever mentioned that I love these two 'cause I love these two


End file.
